


Pledges

by KateKintail



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan is regretting his generosity  as he muddles over collecting pledges for an upcoming marathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pledges

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: masturbation, very mild voyeurism, chan I suppose (I like to think of Obi as somewhere around 15-16 here but nothing is actually stated so imagine whatever you like)
> 
> Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan established relationship
> 
> Disclaimer: Like masturbation, this is all just free fun :-)
> 
> Notes: Inspired by the Good Vibrations MMoM marathon

          Obi-Wan buried his head in his hands, for the flush on his cheeks was giving everything away.

 

            “Obi-Wan, if you’re not brave enough to talk about it outright, how are you going to elicit support for it?” Bant asked, sounding altogether too reasonable.

 

            Obi-Wan shook his head, still covering his face. “I don’t have any idea. But I can’t just walk up to Master Windu and ask him to sponsor me in a… well… in the marathon.” He moaned. “I can’t even say it to you!”

 

            Bant reached over and pulled his hands away from his face. “I’m not the one you need to be able to say it to. I’m trying to find sponsors, same as you.”

 

            Obi-Wan nodded and looked down at the two packets on the bed between them. “This is insane. Why in the world did I let you talk me into this?”

 

            Leaning over the packets, Bant gently patted his shoulder. “Because you love obeying your master. He wanted you to take a more active part in temple fundraising.” She smiled innocently, silver eyes twinkling. “And we all know you’re better at this even than saber fighting.”

 

            Obi-Wan shot her a look, picked up his packet and hit her upper arm with it in play. “Fine, go drum up sponsors and leave me here a nervous wreak. I asked you over to make me feel better. Now I just wish I’d never signed up to participate in this.” He flopped down against the bed, but that did him little good. The bed smelled of Qui-Gon, and he was hard just thinking about that. And that was what he wanted furthest from his mind at the moment.

 

            Bant rose from the other side of the bed, taking her packet with her. She gave Obi a sympathetic smile that he didn’t see, and started to let herself out. But at the edge of the master’s room, she turned around, leaning on the doorjam to look back at him. “Obi?”

 

            He looked up at her through the fingers of his hands.

 

            “I just thought I might remind you that it is not the number of sponsors you have, but the amount of money each donates. If you are having a difficult time articulating your situation, then trying going for quality, rather than quantity in your pledges. Though doing so during the marathon wouldn’t hurt either,” she winked at him.

 

            He knew she was only trying to be helpful, but he wasn’t much comforted by this advice. “What, I’m supposed to ask Master Windu to donate a thousand credits a minute instead of just one? That’s supposed to be easier for me to ask?”

 

            She shrugged and left after giving him one more piece of advice. And this piece, she said with as much leading and hinting in her voice as she possibly could, hoping that he would understand what she was trying to tell him. “Find someone you can ask easily, then.” The problem was, Obi-Wan could think of no such person. Bant slipped out of the room and the quarters, making sure the door slid closed securely behind her. Qui-Gon had brought back a strange animal on his last mission and the last thing any of them needed was for it to get out and run freely throughout the temple.

 

            Obi-Wan kicked off his boots and slid beneath the covers of his master’s bed, a bed which recently had become his own as well. But the pillows and whole bed did still smell like Qui-Gon, for the sheets had not been changed since they began sleeping together. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, filling his nose and the rest of his body with the scent. He turned, pressing more of his chest and his erection into the bed with a sigh. Only seconds alone and he already wanted to touch himself. With all this talk about the marathon and the sponsors, it was no wonder.

 

            “Well,” he whispered to the empty room. “I suppose there’s no harm in practicing a little, is there?”

 

            He shoved the papers aside so as not to damage them, and turned onto his back. His hand gently fondled the bulge in his leggings, feeling himself through the thin layer of fabric and wondering why Jedi uniforms were so very thin in that region. The touch felt fantastic, better than he could have hoped for. There was just something about doing it on the bed where Qui-Gon slept with him, on the bed where he and Qui-Gon always made love, instead of in the shower or on his own sleep couch. He’d seen his master take women on the table, and knew his master had done things on the sofa in the common area. But Obi-Wan had only ever known his master in this bed, with these sheets, and these scents. “Nnughhh…” Obi-Wan said through a sigh, raising his butt off the bed to slip his leggings down.

 

            When his hand met skin instead of fabric, he moaned happily. With his foreskin pulled down, he rubbed his palm in a circular motion around the head of his cock. So good it felt… so good that his problems seemed to melt away, replaced by the beautiful oblivion of stimulation and fantasy. He began to stroke himself slowly, two fingers at first, then three, working them up and down his shaft. He closed his eyes, concentrating. Concentrating on the motion of his hand, but concentrating also on the image of Qui-Gon. Touching himself was still as physically satisfying as ever it was. But somehow it felt a little empty, emotionally, until he thought of his master.

 

            Oh, and the thought of his master was all he needed to spur him on to greater heights. He grabbed his balls with his other hand, holding them tight against his body as he pumped his hand up and down his cock, using his foreskin to slide so as not to need lubricant in addition to the pre-come. He rubbed that over his palm and the head of his cock, feeling the moist heat seep into his skin. Obi-Wan groaned at the pleasure of the sensation, eyes closed as he rubbed himself again, all the while thinking about Qui-Gon. His hand moved quickly, aided by his Jedi skills. He panted, eyes closed, the sensation building in him slowly.

 

            And then the door to their quarters slid open. At first, the sound did not fully register to him. But then there were footsteps and Obi-Wan froze, wincing. He grabbed the side of the blanket and threw it over himself just in time. “Master!” he exclaimed, winded and sweating and hurting terribly to stop in the middle like that.

 

            “Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning sideways against the doorway to the bedroom. He grinned, tilting his head and leaning it against the doorway, too. “What are you up to?” he asked, knowing the answer already.

 

            Up was certainly the key word, and even with a blanket over his waist, he could vouch for that. “I…” His mouth was dry. Could he say it? Could he actually say the words to Qui-Gon? “I was taking care of myself,” he said weakly. Qui-Gon did not flinch but he did not speak, either. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and blurted out, “I was masturbating, Master.”

 

            Qui-Gon nodded nonchalantly. “I figured as much. Could you not wait for the marathon to start? Though it is not like you to be so impatient.” He pushed off the doorway and walked slowly over to the bed.

 

            Obi-Wan shook his head. In his excitement, he’d almost forgotten about that. The rush of dread in having to get sponsors filled him again. “No. I was… I was just thinking of you and I… I had to touch myself.”

 

            Qui-Gon’s smile was soft and pleasing. He was clearly flattered by the statement. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled back the covers, inspecting Obi-Wan’s erection. “You’re still very hard,” he whispered, stating the obvious. “It would be a shame not to finish.”

 

            Looking excited, he leaned forward, crawling down the bed to Qui-Gon. He stroked Qui-Gon’s upper arm gently. “If you want to catch up, I can take you in my mouth,” he offered. He ran his hand down Qui-Gon’s side towards his crotch, but Qui-Gon grabbed his wrist to stop him.

 

            “I would prefer to watch you continue on as normal. I would find that so much more arousing right now.” He gave a light cough, and then quickly added, “But it is an intimate act, like meditating, and I will understand entirely if you wish to be alone.”

 

            “Oh…” Obi-Wan said, settling down again on the bed with a bright flush in his cheeks from embarrassment, not just the physical exertion of masturbating. “Well… of course I don’t mind. I share many of my meditations with you. I would be happy to let you be here for it. And I shouldn’t take long, especially if I don’t have to imagine you. You’re right here with me. Would you… would you hold me as I did it, Master?”

 

            Qui-Gon nodded and with a bit of readjusting, Qui-Gon sat, cross-legged, leaning back against the wall. Obi-Wan lay back in his Master’s arms, stretched out in front. He had shed all his clothes as it was easier for laundry purposes. Qui-Gon held him tightly, but at an angle where they could look at each others’ faces and where Qui-Gon could still watch Obi-Wan’s progress on his hard cock. “All right,” he said, and Qui-Gon tightened his grip like a hug. “Here I go.”

 

            Obi-Wan started slowly, but in less than five minutes he was where he had left off. Panting. Heart racing. Body throbbing. Tingles raced through him, surges of energy, strong and powerful urges. “Qui-Gon…” he whispered, taking in one last look of his master’s face, the soft eyes, the strong nose, the thick beard, before closing his own eyes. The sensations built, rising quickly now. He could feel his master’s heartbeat, feel his breaths, sense his presence. And he could feel Qui-Gon’s erection pushing into his back. Wondering how much it would turn the man on when he finally came, Obi-Wan pushed back, wanting Qui-Gon’s cock to feel a good amount of pressure at the event. Qui-Gon let out a sharp gasp of pleasure, and that was all it took.

 

            Obi-Wan’s hand made its last slide. He threw himself back, using Qui-Gon to steady himself as his body tensed and he shot. The warm sensation hit his stomach and chest as he moaned, pushing back against Qui-Gon as a brace and to feel the man’s warmth on his back.

 

            When it was over, he sat up, needing to clean himself off. “I’ll get you a washcloth,” Qui-Gon said, getting up and returning from the ‘fresher with one in mere moments. It was damp with warm water, and Qui-Gon very gently wiped Obi-Wan off with it. His strokes were tender, caring, cleaning up the mess his padawan had lovingly made. “If you are that fast at it, I would not lose much to sponsor you in the marathon,” he said offhandedly, folding the washcloth to find a clean spot in order to wipe Obi-Wan’s bare chest. “However, I do not suppose you will raise much money being fast.” As he finished, he gave Obi-Wan’s now clean chest a soft kiss, and applied an even softer one to Obi-Wan’s naval.

 

            It was then that the thought struck Obi-Wan. Then and only then. Here was the one man who knew him so intimately, hard and tender all at the same time and holding Obi-Wan in his arms to witness such an intimate act. Qui-Gon was the one person he could talk to about this. “Master,” he breathed, a bit amazed that he had not thought of it sooner. “Would you please sponsor me for the masturbation marathon?”

 

            Qui-Gon smiled pleasantly, and nodded. If he knew how difficult it had been for his padawan to ask, he did not let it show. If he was at all surprised that it had taken his padawan so very long to think to ask, this did not show on his face either. “Of course, Padawan. And I would be happy to give quite generously if you would allow me the courtesy of participating in it with you at least once over the course of the weekend, whether it is to witness or to masturbate alongside you.”

 

            Obi-Wan brightened considerably. With luck, the weekend would be an exciting journey for them both. He was happy to share such an intimate thing with Qui-Gon, and was already looking forward to sharing Qui-Gon’s as well. Only minutes ago he had been dreading the moments until the marathon, and now it seemed it could not come fast enough.

 

            “Until then you will have to practice taking it a bit more slowly,” Qui-Gon said, smiling.

 

            It took Obi-Wan a beat to change trains of thought. “I spent time at it before you found me,” he assured his master. Now he fully intended to spend the marathon working at as many as possible, for as long as possible. “And I promise you I do care about quality as much as quantity.”

 

            “I should hope so,” Qui-Gon said, taking Obi-Wan in his arms for a snuggle. The young man was positively glowing still from the exertion of what had transpired and the excitement of what was yet to pass.

 

            “Regardless of what Bant says,” Obi-Wan added, grinning with amusement. Qui-Gon looked down at him quizzically, but Obi-Wan shook his head. “It isn’t important any more.” He snuggled back, cooling down after the act but finding warmth against his master’s chest and in his master’s arms.


End file.
